Putting It Off
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: He knew this night was coming. He'd known for a little over a year now that he'd have to do it. But with each passing night, he tried to pretned that it wasn't growing nearer. There was no ignoring it now.


Written for **Charms** (Write about facing something you've been avoiding for a long time)

-oOo-  
-oOo-  
-oOo-

He knew this night was coming. He'd known for a little over a year now that he'd have to do it. But with each passing night, he tried to pretend that it wasn't growing nearer. There was no ignoring it now.

Tonight was the night.

Sitting on the couch closest to the fireplace, Draco tried to let the warmth of it spread over him. The Slytherin commons was uncharacteristically cold tonight. The stone surfaces seem to freeze against his touch. It felt right that everything was frigid.

Part of him hoped for a glitch. That the cabinet wouldn't open and all of this worrying would prove to be nothing. He knew the consequences for failure were drastic, and would most likely lead to serious injury to his person. Yet part of him still prayed that he could avoid this attack for as long as he can. Part of him wished he'd gotten out of this situation.

It was too late now to back out.

The door to Slytherin house closed with a resounding echo. Draco flinched at the sound. Seeing Crabbe and Goyle moving through the commons, wicked smirks on their lips, did nothing to calm the boy. They must have known that something was happening tonight. They surely didn't know what, but they knew he was about to do something. They were excited.

"Better get going," Goyle said in that flat voice of his.

"Try not to mess up," was Crabbe's departing remark as the two made their way to the dorms.

The false galleon in his pocket burned hot against the fabric as Madam Rosmerta contacted him. That was the signal. Dumbledore had left from Hogsmeade on whatever mission he was on. Potter was with him. This was the moment. Everything had fallen into play. Now it all rode on him.

Shoving the coin back into his pocket, he stood from the couch. The room seemed to drop ten degrees in that moment. Pulling his robes tighter in an attempt to block out the cold, Draco withdrew himself from the seating area. He shivered as he crossed the familiar common room floor. With a hand on the door, he glanced back at the place which had become a home to him.

There was no time for nostalgia. Pushing the door open he made his way out and through the dungeon halls. He was still shivering, but this time not from the cold. There was no more putting it off. No more trying to pretend that there was another day in between.

Coming onto the main floor, the Grand Staircase just down the hall, Draco knew there was no more putting it out of his mind. There were quite a number of stairs to climb before he got to the vanishing cabinet. And with each step, he tried to accept the fact that he couldn't avoid this night any longer.

He didn't know how many steps he climbed, or how long it took, but he was in the Room of Requirements before he was even aware of it. The room was silent, minus the horde of pixies running rampant. The path to the vanishing cabinet was clear, almost inviting. It loomed out in the mess of forgotten items. As he moved through the cluttered wall, Draco believed he could just blend into this room. After all, he felt just as lost and forgotten as the stack of chairs and dusty tiara just a ways down.

The vanishing cabinet was in front of him. It was waiting. It was his move.

Reaching out, hand shacking in anticipation, he grasped the cold steel of the knob. The muscles in his arms cramped as if telling him to let go and leave. There was still a chance to turn around and run. To avoid this night. This massacre.

But one memory of his mother's smiling face reminded him that there was no other option but this. Turning the knob slowly, Draco tried to close his eyes but couldn't.

As he stepped back, his aunt clawed her way through the opening. She snickered and smirked at him like a beast would its prey. Death Eaters were piling out behind her. They were ready to unleash their rage onto the unsuspecting school. Bellatrix took his by the arm, whispering congratulations on his achievements as she lead them from the room.

"So proud," she whispered into his ear. "You've earned this Draco. Tonight is your night. And we get Dumbledore…."

Draco stopped listening. Glancing out the window as his aunt threw up the Dark Mark, Draco prayed that the headmaster's return wasn't a hasty one. After all, he wanted to avoid adding murder under his name for as long as he could.


End file.
